On a Dark and Stormy Night

Dave Miller — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 03:37:03 +0000

It was the night of July 5, 2003 as I walked to my tent at 11:30 p.m. I was on vacation with my family. The kids were both asleep in the old farmhouse with my wife, but since I have allergies to dust, I chose to sleep in a tent in the yard. We had just come in from the lake after watching the fireworks that the local fire department sets off every year from an island on Seneca Lake. I could still hear the sounds of firecrackers that the neighbors were lighting.

I had no difficulty falling asleep, in spite of the noise from the neighbors. The sound of thunder in the distance didn’t bother me either. The weather had been perfect all weekend, despite the prognostications of a few pessimistic weathermen, so I expected the storms to pass over yet again. I was wrong.

I woke to an incredibly loud clap of thunder, which was followed by an impossibly bright flash of light, and another crashing sound. The rain was pelting my tent, and was blowing in through the screens. I zipped the windows shut and settled back into bed. The noise of the rain didn’t bother me, and the storm seemed to be moving away. I figured the worst was over. Again, I was wrong.

Within minutes, the intensity of the storm doubled. There was an almost constant flashing of lightning, and the sound of the thunder melded into a single rolling rumble, accentuated at times with loud explosions as lightning struck nearby. That’s when I felt the first drop.

Several others followed it. The wind had picked up and was now blowing the rain up under the fly of my tent and in through the roof screens, and there was no closing them.

My allergies didn’t seem so important at this point and I decided that I had to make a run for the house, about 60 yards away, and the storm was still getting worse. I was, for the first time, starting to get scared. I tried to avoid the waterfall coming in the top of my tent as I put on a pair of shorts in the corner of the tent. It didn’t matter; I still managed to get a splash of cold water on my face as I put on my shoes. If I wasn’t completely awake before, I was now.

I decided to wait for a lull in the storm to make my run. It wasn’t abating, though, so I decided to just run for it NOW! I took the time to say a quick prayer. I think it was something like, “God help me.”

I unzipped the door to the tent and exited. By the time I re-zipped the door, I was soaked to the skin. I looked toward the light near the front door of the house and started running. I stopped to catch my breath for about ten seconds at a pavilion, which was at the halfway point between my tent and the house.

As I set back out into the storm, a bolt of lightning struck just behind the house. It lit the entire yard in an eerie way that made me think that I wasn’t going to make it. It was almost a surreal experience seeing lightning strike so close. For a fraction of a second it was actually brighter than daylight. I knew then that my fate was in God’s hands. Nonetheless, I kept running.

As I neared the front door of the cabin, I switched my bag from my right hand to my left so I could use my stronger hand to open the door. As I stepped onto the concrete pad in front of the door, though, I got a surprise.

The door opened in front of me. My mother was there holding it open so I could dash in. My wife was waiting there also with a towel for me to dry off. I thanked them both and asked why they were both downstairs in the middle of the night. “We were waiting for you, ” my mom said, “We knew that eventually you had to come in. I’m surprised you stayed out there as long as you did.” It was three o’clock in the morning.

I went to the bathroom, toweled off and changed into some dry clothes. The storm was finally abating outside as I climbed the stairs and got into the nice dry bed that my wife had made for me as I was changing. Before I fell asleep, I took time to thank God for the women in my life who had given me comfort when I needed it. I realized as I was praying that what I had just experienced was a metaphor for heaven.

When life’s storms become too much to bear, God calls us home. When we get home, there will be loved ones there to hold the door for us, God will wipe the tears of the world from our eyes, and Jesus will lead us to a warm and safe place of rest that He has prepared.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Revelation 21:4 NIV

In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. John 14:2 NIV

Learning to Swim

Dave Miller — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 16:56:58 +0000

When I was a young boy of about six, my mom made me take swimming lessons. I hated going because the water was freezing cold and I was the only boy in the class. I had to learn how to dog paddle to pass this class and I just wasn’t very good.

Well, it came about that one Sunday, probably in mid-July, there was a church picnic at the pond behind my grandparent’s house and I figured that if I could convince my mom that I knew how to dog paddle, she wouldn’t make me go back to that freezing cold pool with all those icky girls. So I walked out into the pond where it was about three feet deep, leaned forward and started doing the dog paddle.

From my mom’s perspective on the shore it looked like I was swimming along just fine, but under the murky water, I was walking on the bottom of the pond. And on the shore, I saw people telling my mother, “He’s really doing well!” and “Look what a good little swimmer he is.” I was sure I had them all fooled.

But there was a boy at that picnic, bigger than me, and somehow he knew I was faking it. When I got out of the water, he picked me up, carried me out to the end of the dock and threw me into about eight feet of water. As I was sailing through the air, a thought crossed my mind, “I am going to die.” Well, I popped up to the surface and looked to see who was coming to save me. Not a soul. And why should they come after me? Everyone had seen what a good little swimmer I was. Finally, I started doing what I had learned – kicking my legs and paddling like crazy with my hands.

Amazingly, I stayed pretty close to the surface and started moving toward the shore. And that boy who threw me in just stood on the dock laughing. His name was Mark, I’ll never forget that, and he was laughing at me but I wasn’t angry with him at all. Because on that day in mid-July, Mark taught me how to swim.

You see, I didn’t trust the water to hold me up; I trusted my own feet on the solid bottom of the pond. And I fear that there are many who are doing the same thing in their Christian life today. You look just like the real swimming Christians, but you’re just going through the motions on the surface, trusting your own footing and distrusting God to keep you afloat.

There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who have entered through the narrow gate who are on their way along the narrow path to heaven; and those who are on the wide way to destruction. They both look like they’re doing the same things to most observers, but one is faking it

If you haven’t entered through the narrow gate and if you find yourself on the wide way, I hope I’ve thrown you in the deep part of the pond with this story. I hope that the thought crossed your mind, “I am going to die,” Because you are.

The Holy Spirit was sent to us to convict us of sin now, so we will know which path we are on. If you feel convicted right now in some way, then the Spirit of God is working in you. Rejoice! This is good news! Hebrews 12:6 says, “For the Lord disciplines those he loves, and chastises every child he accepts.”

On the other hand, if you feel no conviction, then you are either firmly on the narrow path with your eyes wide open, or firmly on the wide way with your eyes tightly shut. There could be a narrow door right in front of you, but you would never see it.

Open your eyes, kick off of the bottom, trust that God will not let you sink. Confess your sins and accept Jesus as Savior and Lord. Walk in His way; Trust and Obey.

Trust AND Obey » mom

On a Dark and Stormy Night

Learning to Swim